Auribus Teneo Lupum
by Nightshade2412
Summary: After leaving for the States, Alex is determined to make his new life with the Pleasures work. But he's struggling with recent trauma, and if that isn't enough, trouble always seems to find him, and he still hasn't learn't to walk away - with old friends and old enemies at every turn, there's nowhere left to run...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to the new story! It's set after Scorpia Rising and will continue as far into the future as I want it to. Angst, action and loads of craziness ahead. Buckle up!**

 **Disclaimer: Alex Rider is the brainchild of Antony Horowitz, and the meaning of the title is copied from the Mental Floss website. I don't own either of them.**

* * *

 _Auribus teneo lupum (I'm holding a wolf by the ears) - used to describe an unsustainable situation, and in particular one in which both doing nothing and doing something to resolve it are equally risky._

* * *

"Okay, let me get this straight," Alex said, following Sabina to the car. "I'm a 10th grader, also known as a sophomore. Right?"

Sabina Pleasure nodded. It was Alex's first day at the high school in San Francisco, the summer holidays over. He'd spent them surfing and exploring with his adoptive sister, trying to recover from his final mission and being tutored by Mr Cooper, who was apparently going to be his homeroom teacher.

"This is so weird. I was in Year 10 _last_ year!"

Sabina rolled her eyes, but she was pleased to see Alex so light-hearted.

Alex fidgeted with the long sleeve of his t-shirt. He felt under-dressed for school, used to dressing in impeccable uniform - with a dubious record, he hadn't wanted to give Mr Bray any more reason to kick him out.

Ed drove them to school on his way to work, and they managed to keep up a playful conversation. Alex caught himself in a surreal moment, feeling like he was an ordinary teenager with his dad and sister. Although he and Sabina had once been more than that, and he still had a crush on her, they'd come to an unspoken agreement to leave it until Alex was feeling better. He was too confused and fragile to deal with any more emotional problems right at that moment.

Sabina led him to the homeroom classroom ("Homeroom? That's so cheesy. What's wrong with calling it Tutor?") and he used her as an anchor, trying to ignore the unease he felt among so many people and to stop examining his surroundings for potential threats.

"Ready?" she asked him outside the door, eyebrow raised. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Relax. It'll be fine." With that, she opened it and stuck her head in. Mr Cooper wasn't there but there were already about a dozen students milling around, catching up with friends.

"Hey, Katie, come here a sec would you?"she called to a girl with light brown hair in a pixie cut and wearing tomboyish shorts and a t-shirt.

"This is Alex. Look after him for me, won't you? Alex, Katie's my friend from my surfing club." Sabina told him, offering a last encouraging smile before she left. She was less than a year older than him, with a birthday at the very end of June, but it was enough to push her into the grade above. "Good luck, Alex. You know how to find me if you need me."

She left, glancing back once, and Alex found himself facing Katie. He managed to muster up a smile and a "hi" in greeting. She returned the gesture and jerked her head at the door.

"Shall we, then?"

They entered the classroom and she helped him find a desk. He was grateful for the small cover it gave him, trying to look busy arranging his pencil case in the hope that no one would bother him. It couldn't last, of course.

"Hey! New boy! Who're you?" asked an athletic boy, looking friendly enough.

"Um, hi. I'm Alex." he stammered. What was wrong with him? He was never this nervous.

"Alex, this is Josh," Katie told him, referring to the boy who'd asked, "And this is my friend Pearl." This girl was petite and Chinese-American.

They nodded to each other. Most of the others had come in by now, and at that moment Mr Cooper breezed in.

"Good morning everybody! Welcome back. Ah, Alex, you found us. Got a seat? Good." He passed the sheaf of paper to a boy who soon deposited the timetables on the right desks - Alex got a jolt at seeing the name _Pleasure, Alex_ at the top. As well as the core subjects, he'd opted to take drama, French and Chinese. He knew he'd be behind in Chinese, but he'd spent part of the holidays trying to make a start, partly to take his mind off things, and he'd reassured Mr Cooper that he was a fast learner of languages. Since he was already proficient in French, he took that class to save himself work. For his Social Studies class, he'd chosen Government. He had been taking Modern World History back in the UK, but although a large proportion of that had been on the USA he knew he didn't have enough knowledge about the country to cope with the History course, especially when the subject was in general heavy in learning.

"So I'm sure you've noticed that we have a new student," the teacher continued. "Mr Pleasure, care to introduce yourself?"

Alex stood up. Mr Cooper had warned him that he would do this, though he reassured him that most of his class teachers wouldn't, and the teenager had agreed in the hope that he'd avoid as many curious looks and questions later. He took a moment to push his emotions away before he spoke.

"I'm Alex Ri- I mean, Alex Pleasure. I like sport, especially, um, _soccer_ , and acting."

"Are you related to Sabina?" asked a boy at the back. He'd come in among the latest, and Alex didn't much like the look of him.

"Adopted brother," he said shortly. They'd agreed to be truthful about it.

"Why?"

"I'd rather not go into that," Alex said, trying not to think about Jack. The boy shrugged, completely unapologetic.

Alex sank down and started fiddling with a pencil. The question had thrown him and his mind was doing exactly what he was trying not to - thinking about the events that had led him to be here. His uncle, MI6, Jack…

 _The screen changed to colour just as the car exploded into flames, Jack disappearing among them, lost behind a veil of smoke and fire-_

The pencil snapped. Alex stared at the pieces in his hand and pushed them away from him. He noticed Katie giving him a concerned look and tried to relax so she'd look away. Some other classmates were also staring at him but he met their eyes and they soon glanced away.

They spent the rest of the time receiving information about extracurricular activities and comparing schedules. Alex noted that soccer tryouts were next Wednesday and jotted down the rehearsal days for the school musical, but didn't decide yet if he wanted to go. He liked the acting, but was less keen on singing.

Alex got through the first few lessons with little difficulty - he'd gone over most of the work he hadn't done before in his tutoring sessions, so didn't find English or science too hard. After that he had drama, so he found himself entering the school theatre and joining a group of teenagers who were milling around as they waited for the teacher.

The majority were girls, who mostly looked nice except for a small group caked in make-up. The half-dozen boys in the class included Josh, who caught Alex's eye and waved him over to join them, much to his pleasure but also his surprise. He wasn't used to such a lack of suspicion.

The lesson was spent being introduced to their next project and practising various exercises. So far they hadn't started working in groups. The teacher, a young blonde woman called Miss Miller, paused by Alex as he, Josh and a joker of a boy called Liam were working on an improvisation exercise.

"I hope you boys are going to audition for the musical this year?" Josh and Liam nodded in confirmation. "And you, Alex?"

"I was considering it."

"I hope you'll do more than just that - we can always use more male actors. We're doing _Guys and Dolls_ this year. I'm sure you'd enjoy it." She frowned suddenly. "Can you drop the British accent, though? It really is an inherently American musical."

Alex took a moment to form his mouth into the right shape. "I think so. How's this for an American accent?" he asked with a slight drawl.

Miss Miller blinked in surprise. "That's perfect! I'd never distinguish you from one of us. Where did you learn to do that?"

Alex froze, memories flashing through his mind. _Breakfast in Miami with Tom Turner and Belinda Troy… waiting in the boat for them to return … the shark missing him by centimetres before it was skewered the same way the agents had been, blood colouring the water-_

"Alex?" Miss Miller's voice broke him out of the trance.

He pushed back the emotions before he brought his gaze to meet hers. Two flashbacks and it wasn't even lunchtime - it must be the new environment, without the security of the Pleasures' home.

"I learnt it at my old school," he lied. "We were going to do _Grease._ " That was true, but the teachers had decided not to bother with the accents, after seeing the widely varying amounts of success.

"Ok," Miss Miller said, but she was clearly sceptical and still looked concerned. "Now, let's see what you three have prepared, shall we?"

* * *

At lunch, Alex invited to sit with Josh and Liam. He was somewhat surprised when Katie and Pearl came to join them - as it turned out, Pearl was dating Liam - but was pleased at the same time, since he liked both the girls. The boys started out discussing their drama project, a fun, safe subject, and Alex was feeling relaxed. But when the girls arrived, it was dropped since they couldn't join in, and there was silence for a couple of minutes before Katie spoke.

"So, Alex, tell us about yourself."

He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Um… what do you want to know?" He could already feel himself closing in.

She shrugged. "What was Britain like?"

"Colder."

She rolled her eyes. "That tells me absolutely nothing. What was your life like there? Who were your friends?"

"There was Tom. He wasn't bright, but really good at sports. We were friendly rivals, and… yeah," he finished lamely.

Katie wasn't impressed. "You're useless at this. Why can't you say something lets us get to know you? Not just facts."

Alex studied his pasta. "I'm a very private person."

"Sorry. I just find it hard to be friends when I know nothing about someone."

"Then you'll have to go off what you find out about me here. I don't like talking about my life in England."

"Why not?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "I'm adopted. Surely you can make up some reason."

She looked a bit ashamed for pushing him, but didn't give up quite yet. "I don't want to believe half-truths or make rumours."

Alex recalled the constant gossip of the Brookland students and found himself liking her honesty. "Thank you."

She looked confused at that response, but was interrupted before she could reply.

"Hey, Alex. Settling in okay?"

"Sab! Yeah, I'm fine. Drama was fun."

"Great. Well, I'll see you after school." She walked off and Alex turned back to his friends. He was amused to see Josh's reaction to having the popular, highly sought-after girl stop at their table.

"You can stop drooling now," he smirked.

Josh blushed. "Wow. It's just sunk in that you're living with her. Lucky."

"Not really," Alex said regretfully. "I think it's more or less killed our relationship."

"You mean - you and her -"

He hesitated. "Not officially. But we were close."

Josh whistled. "I agree with Katie. We have a lot we need to learn about you. Come for a sleepover. You, me and Liam. We can pretend it's to work on our drama project. Does Friday suit you?"

Taken aback, Alex shrugged. "Maybe. I'll ask."

After all, he had started a new life and a few friends would make it a lot more pleasant.

* * *

Sure enough, on Friday, Alex turned up on Josh's doorstep clutching a duffle bag and was welcomed by the smell of cooking pizza. They chatted about girls, school and the best movies. At some point they ended up playing Truth or Dare, no doubt a ploy to squeeze more information out of Alex, but all they learnt was that he picked Dare so much that they ended up running out of ideas.

Josh's parents left them alone most of the time. His dad wasn't there at all, and he wasn't in any of the photos lining the walls of the living room, so Alex didn't even know if he was in the picture at all. His mum looked in a couple of times, a youthful, red-haired woman, and she poked her head in again when she heard them still laughing as it neared midnight.

"Time to settle down, boys. 'Night."

Alex went to sleep happily. He was having a good time, the others were really nice, and he hadn't been asked about his old life. His friends had barely learnt anything more about him - yet.

" _You're doing just what I want," Julius said, and pressed the button._

 _But it wasn't Julius, Alex knew. It was him. He had caused Jack's death._

 _He could see her. The smoke was dissipating from the smouldering car wreck and revealing her twisted body. She rose robotically and brought empty eyes to fix on him._

" _This is your fault."_

" _No, Jack," he muttered. She began to crumble into sand, blown away across the desert. "Jack, please. No, Jack, NO!"_

* * *

Josh returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and crossed to his sleeping bag. He didn't notice anything off until he had to look down to step over Alex. His friend was thrashing slightly, muttering unintelligibly. He crouched down and could just about make out a repeated word - name, rather: Jack. Coming to a decision, Josh reached out and shook the boy out of sleep.

Alex sat up in a burst of sudden movement, shoving Josh backwards violently. The glass of water was dropped and smashed on the ground. He took in the scene as wakefulness returned to him, horrified when he saw the shocked teenager staring at him.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he announced, flinging back the blankets and stumbling from the room. Josh picked himself and followed more slowly, offering Liam, who had been woken by the commotion, a confused shrug.

"Go back to sleep. I'll see if he's okay."

Josh found Alex leaning with his hands on the countertop, wiping his mouth.

"Sorry about the glass. I'll clean it up." His voice was bleak, apathetic. It wasn't so much that he was emotionless as that he was suppressing his emotions.

"Don't worry about it."

"Boys! What are you doing up?" Josh's mum had woken as well, and was coming down the stairs in a pale blue dressing gown that contrasted her fiery hair. Her annoyance faded as she took in the scene. "What's the matter? Are you ill?"

Alex shook his head weakly. "I'll be okay."

"Too many sweets?"

"He was having a nightmare," Josh stated.

"Because he was sick?"

"I think it was the other way round. He was sick because of the nightmare."

Alex was still staring at the counter, not meeting their eyes.

"Is that true, Alex? Do you want to talk about it?" Josh's mum asked. He didn't know her name. He just knew that she was kind and understanding and not trying to push him and just-

"Like her. You look like her." He was still fogged by sleep, or he wouldn't be blurting this out.

"Like who, Alex?" Her face was confused, but all Alex could see was _her_ face.

"Jack," he choked out, wondering at the treacherous prickling behind his eyes. "And it was my fault, all my fault…" He was starting to really cry now, in his delirious mutterings, and not-Jack stepped forward to pull him into a comforting embrace.

She felt him tense at the contact, but instead of relaxing into the hug liked she hoped, he grew more stiff. The sobs faded quickly, and when she looked up, a chilling, empty mask was in place. The boy - if he could even be called that - extricated himself and walked past them back to the living room, where he knelt and began to collect the shards of glass. Liam had returned to sleep and was snoring softly.

"You don't have to do that," Josh said.

Alex gave no sign that he had heard.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Five thirty."

He nodded and stood to carry his double handful of glass to the bin in the kitchen. "Go back to bed."

"What about you?"

He shrugged. "I'd like to be alone."

"If that's what you want," said Josh's mum. "But you should get some more sleep. There's a couch in the front room."

"Thanks," he replied, but he had no intention of using it. As soon as he had shut the door behind him, he started to work out. He could never face returning to the horrors of sleep after nightmares, and days of desperately trying to catch up had taught him the value of putting any spare time to good use.

Two hours later, when Josh's mum knocked lightly at the door and entered, she found him even more sweaty and tired, but a great deal more stable. It was obvious what he'd been doing.

Something was seriously wrong with Alex Pleasure.

* * *

 **A/N: And there you have the first chapter! The second is already written and I'll put it up in about a week. I was going to get a bit further before posting, but I'm starting to feel a need for feedback before I run out of steam and as I'm a British teenager writing a story set to some extent in the US, if anyone wants to start corresponding, that would be helpful as the Internet is actually incredbly unhelpful - I have no idea how your exams work, for example. Even if you're not American but just feel like a chat, feel free to PM me! It's amazing to basically have penfriends with at least one similar interest (AR, of course) and fun to learn about people living all over the globe.**

 **Please review! Tell me what you like, what I can improve and if there are any typos to correct. Even one word is better than nothing, but be creative! Find something that sums up your feelings better than "great" or "terrible", I dare you. Lots of love to you all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Voila! Chapter 2 here - don't expect such quick updates in future, this was already written. I hope it meets expectations.**

 **Many thanks to all my lovely reviewers, but especially to _Blond Dude 42_ , who has helped with American schools, and to _wrimo,_ who has offered to.**

 **The disclaimer still stands.**

 **Onwards!**

* * *

Josh's mum - Mrs Walker - regarded the teenager disapprovingly.

"You've barely had five hours of sleep. You'll be exhausted."

He shrugged. "I wouldn't have slept anyway."

He said it matter-of-factly, but there was something deadened about his expression that made her heart go out to him, and she resolved to look out for him, though she didn't give her feelings away to him. She felt sure that it would just make her job harder as he would push her away.

"I'll make breakfast. Pancakes suit you?"

"That sounds fabulous. Thanks, Mrs Walker."

"That's ok, honey. Feel free to use the shower before the other two get up."

He entered the kitchen half an hour later to the delicious scent, dressed and feeling refreshed, joined by the others yawning their heads off and still in pyjamas. Piling his plate, he fell on the food like a starving man.

"You'd think you'd never seen pancakes before," Mrs Walker admonished him with a smile.

"Jack only makes stuff that can be cooked in less than ten minutes," he grinned back unthinkingly.

"Who's Jack?" Liam asked curiously, mouth full.

Alex blinked. "My guardian." His voice was suddenly quiet and distant.

"I thought you lived with the Pleasures."

"I do." He looked down and picked at his food, appetite gone. It was harder to swallow around the lump in his throat. He waited, expecting more questions, and was surprised when they never came.

He had missed seeing the kick Josh had aimed at his more tactless friend.

His phone rang then, and he welcomed the distraction.

"It's Ed - Mr Pleasure, I mean. Mind if I take it?"

He moved into the hall and pressed the green button.

"Hey, Ed."  
" _Hi, Alex. Having a nice time?"_

"Yeah." He didn't say anything about his nightmare. There was no point in worrying his foster family, not when he'd been doing so well.

" _Great. Well, the thing is, a big story's come up - headline news - and Liz and Sabina are out at surfing. So I've called Mr Cooper and he'll be picking you up since it's on his route and he's tutoring you this morning anyway."_

"Fine. I hope you realise how embarrassing it is to have a teacher pick me up from my friend's house."

Alex heard tinny laughter emitting from the phone. His foster-father was probably amused at such a typical teenage response.

" _Bye then."_

"Yeah, bye." He ended the call and returned to the kitchen.

They spent the next couple of hours playing a random video game until the doorbell rang. Josh went to get it, the others trickling along behind.

"Mr Cooper!" His voice was pitched noticeably higher and Alex smirked, guessing that his friend had almost had a heart attack from seeing a teacher on the doorstep.

"Good morning, Mr Walker. Did Alex not tell you I was picking him up?"

Josh rounded on the teenager accusingly, who was trying in vain not to blush.

"Yeah, he tutors me," Alex said awkwardly. "I'll just, uh, get my stuff then?"

"Right," Josh said, attempting to recover his hospitality. "Do you want to come in, then?"

He handed the teacher on his mum - risky, maybe, but not as bad as being in the same room - and he and Liam disappeared to help Alex.

The adults, both cheerful and outgoing, struck up an easy conversation, starting with Josh's progress at school but soon moving to more interesting topics, namely the enigma that was Alex.

"You know, he seemed quite bright to me. I'm surprised he needs a tutor," Mrs Walker remarked.

"Yes, it's true that he learns very quickly. But he's missed a lot of schooling, even if he did catch up on most of it before, and the American courses are rather different. Apparently he was ill a lot."

"Well, I wouldn't try anything too taxing today. I expect he'll be too tired.."

Mr Cooper smiled and shrugged. "Oh well. I know what teenagers are like at sleepovers."

Mrs Walker hesitated before deciding to confide in the young teacher. He was probably closer to Alex than most other adults, barring the teen's guardians, after all.

"It's more than that. He had a nightmare, about something pretty serious, I think, and he didn't go back to sleep afterwards. I found him in the morning looking like he'd just been working out." She paused to gather her thoughts before continuing. "He was very upset after the nightmare, very vulnerable. But then he suddenly grew distant, as though he's suppressing all the emotions. It can't be healthy."

Mr Cooper listened with concern. He knew that there was something different about the boy, but his guardians had kept everything very quiet. "That does sound worrying. I'll be sure to look out for him. Still, as for today, you needn't worry - I have a surprise planned, nothing involving too much work. Do you any idea at all of what the nightmare was about?"

"I think it involved a woman called Jack, his old guardian, apparently. I'd say they were close but for some reason she isn't looking after him any more-"

"-Could you please stop talking about me as though I'm not in the room?"

The adults spun round and blushed as they took in the peeved teenager standing stiffly in the doorway.

"To be fair, Alex," Liam said, coming up behind him, "I don't think they realised that you were."

"I've been standing here for at least a minute," Alex replied. The guilty pair exchanged glances - how much of the conversation had he heard?

"Can you teach me how to move like that?" Liam continued. "It would be so cool - like an assassin."

"What's cool about assassins?" Alex answered, effectively silencing him. He turned and led the way to the front door. "See you at school, guys. Thanks for having me, Mrs Walker." He left without looking back, waiting at the end of the drive for Mr Cooper to catch up.

They set off, Alex following a half-step behind.

"This isn't the way to my house," he remarked. "So where are we going?"

"You seem to like science," Mr Cooper answered, "and you've been working really hard. So we're going to meet a friend of mine. He's a doctor. He'll give you a tour of the hospital, show you a few of the things we've learnt being put into practice, and maybe give you an idea of whether you want to consider a medical profession."

They continued until they reached the double doors. Mr Cooper's friend was already waiting in reception, a man of the same age as the teacher - they had met at university. Wasting no time, they entered the bare corridors and the sterile smell hit Alex like a faceful of cold water.

"So, Alex, have you ever thought about being a doctor?" asked Dr Brown.

"Not really. I've had enough experiences with hospitals to put me off." The atmosphere was already bringing bad memories back.

"Oh? Well, I've always found it a very worthwhile job. I go home knowing that I've helped people."

"I'd like that," Alex replied absently. It was one good thing about his clandestine occupation, and if he was honest with himself, he understood that it was what attracted him to trouble time after time. MI6 hadn't blackmailed him into investigating Cray, had they?

The trip continued in perfect normality. Alex was treated to explanations of the various equipment and technology. Some of it he already knew from his own stays, but there was plenty he didn't.

The spell broke as they were leaving the room with the x-ray machine, after a long lecture on how electromagnetic waves were used to view the bones. It was almost silent when a door down the other end of the corridor was flung open and a young nurse rushed out, almost crashing into Dr Brown in his urgency.

"Sir! The patient's waking up!"

"Not the man in room thirteen?" The doctor sounded incredulous.

"Yes, sir."

"But that's - he's been in a coma for over a year!" Without waiting for a replying, he hurried past the nurse as fast as he could without running. Alex and his teacher exchanged glances and followed in bemusement.

They paused just outside the door, out of the way of the gathering crowd of professionals. When it seemed that nobody else was coming, they slipped inside the door, but their view was blocked by the half-dozen people bustling about. The air was filled with the sound of medical chatter, but then this gradually cleared and an accentless, emotionless voice could be heard.

"Where am I?"

"You are in a hospital in San Francisco," Dr Brown said.

"What happened?"

"You sustained a bullet wound to the chest. You were transported here for long-term treatment when you didn't wake from the coma."

There was silence as the man digested this.

"A coma. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Over a year now. We should have pulled the plug ages ago, but the FBI gave us strict instructions concerning you, so we've been keeping you on life support without so much as knowing your name."

"That's unfortunate. I rather hoped you might be able to tell me what it was."

"You don't remember your name?"

"No. I don't remember anything about my life."

"Interesting. Nurse Carter, could you please inform the Department of Homeland Security that the patient is awake?"

"Yes, sir." The young man who'd brought the news earlier left the room, giving Alex and Mr Cooper a clear view of the bed.

Alex stared, everything clicking into place. He stumbled from sudden dizziness, the movement bringing ice blue eyes to notice him. They narrowed in confusion.

"You seem familiar."

Alex said nothing, not confirming or denying the statement.

"You remind me of... Hunter. Yes, Hunter."

"He was my father," Alex said quietly, taking pity on the man whose vulnerability he could sense and took no pleasure in. "And you are Yassen Gregorovich."

"Yassen… That sounds right. And I remember you now. Alex Rider. Why are you here?"

Alex shrugged. "Coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences."

"I didn't expect to see you in France, and I thought you died since then. So maybe I'm a magnet for trouble, but this wasn't intentional."

"Maybe not on your part. There are others who could have planned it." Yassen's speech was slow, as he pieced together the memories dripping from the holes Alex had made in the dam. "But you haven't really answered my question. Why are you here, in San Francisco?"

Alex chose his words carefully, trying to give away as little as possible, conscious of his teacher and the hospital staff staring open-mouthed at the interaction. "The advice you gave me didn't work out. Everything escalated. I'm starting again in America and I happen to be here in the hospital because of a perfectly innocent tour organised by my tutor."

"What advice did I give you?"

"You told me to go to Venice."

Yassen stared at him, trying to work out what that meant. "I remember how pleasant the city is, but there's something else there, isn't there?"

"Yes. An island. With a monastery, holding a school, of sorts."

"A school on an island…"

"Look, I'm not going to spell it out for you."

"No, I remember." Yassen sank back into his pillows. "I'm sorry." He said it quietly, but Alex didn't doubt the sincerity. It was so out of character for the assassin to apologise for anything.

"It's okay," he replied automatically, though he could feel his heart asking _why?_

"No, it isn't. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe that you would have a better life, though I recognise now that it would have destroyed you. I can only be grateful that you got out unharmed."

A bitter laugh tumbled from Alex's throat before he could hold it back. "Who said anything about unharmed?"

The room froze, Alex included as he berated himself for letting the words slip so carelessly.

"Never mind," he sighed. "I should, uh, leave you to rest. Yeah. Nice seeing you, Yassen." He quirked an eyebrow before turning to make good his escape.

"Whoa there, kid!" a deep, jovial voice exclaimed as he crashed into someone entering the already crowded hospital room. The man was an African American dressed in an expensive suit, and he couldn't help but groan as he recognised him. DHS his foot.

"Sorry," he said briefly, ducking his head as he continued past.

"Wait… Alex?"

"Mr Byrne," the teenager replied shortly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Leaving."

The suits accompanying Joe Byrne took a half-step forwards, but their boss waved them back.

"He's allowed. We owe him. How are you holding up, Mr Rider?"

"It's Pleasure now, actually."

"Ah, yes. Sorry. But stop trying to dodge the question."

"As well as can be expected."

"Right, well if there's anything we can do-"

"You can all leave me alone, _sir_." Alex pushed past them and leant against the wall outside, watching the proceedings idly as he waited for his teacher.

"I'm from the Department of Homeland Security," Byrne introduced himself briefly to the doctors. "Owens, cuff the patient to the bed, please. Apologies, Mr Gregorovich, just a precaution."

"That's fair enough," Alex heard Yassen say, before Mr Cooper excused himself and they started heading to the hospital exit.

"Alex…" the young teacher began. "What on earth have you been caught up in, eh?"

Alex simply shrugged, too bewildered to give his mind to forming a polite, diversionary answer, feeling panic start to simmer. It was only September, for goodness sake! He'd been at school for a week. Surely his spy life wasn't catching up with him yet.

"Right. Well, I don't know what's happened in your life, and I won't push, but I want you to know-"

"-that you're here for me? That I can tell you anything?"

Mr Cooper grimaced. "It does sound cliché, doesn't it? All the same, it is sometimes good to remind people of things that should be obvious."

"Well, sir, I appreciate the sentiment, but there is nothing to discuss. I am fine. Nothing is wrong with my life. I just want it to stay that way, in blessed normality."

"Normality forever?"

"That's what I said, yeah."

"But don't you want to do something extraordinary?"

"No. It's overrated."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

Alex paused, stuck for an answer. The only job that came to mind was spy, and that was absolutely out of the question. He shook his head to clear it of the unwelcome thought and fell back on sarcasm.

"I want to be a train-driver," he said.

"Seriously?"

"No." He stalked off a little faster towards the the safety of the Pleasure's house.

* * *

The woman snapped her silver case shut and placed the cigar in a long holder before lighting up. It was this habit that gave her her name: Mrs Smoke. She was not married, but she liked the authority she felt the title gave her.

"Perfect," she said, turning away from where she had been leaning over the man's shoulder in the surveillance room. "Everything is going to plan..."

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that happened... I realise that some of this may have seemed awfully unrealistic, which is why Mrs Smoke exists. I'm also a little worried as Yassen is kind of like Shakespeare - everyone has their own interpretation. I'll say it once now - this story will not have romance as a major theme, and if there is any at all, it's more likely to be in the form of a tempory girlfriend than Alsen, or Yalex, or whatever you call it, as I only buy into it if I can't find any other platonic stories.**

 **Please review with your opinions!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. This chapter is dedicated to two people. The first is Ai Huiyuan, whose review dragged me out of the writer's block I was facing with this chapter. The second is Harry Potter. Happy birthday, Harry.**

 **Disclaimer: Do I really have to tell you again that** ** _I don't own Alex Rider?_** **I'm tired, can't we just be Death Eaters?**

If it were possible, Alex was even more nervous this Monday than he had been last week. He refused to meet anyone's eye as he made his way to his seat in homeroom, conscious of regular glances thrown his way by Mr Cooper and Josh.

He kept his gaze focused downwards as he pulled out his homework. He avoided speaking except to answer the register, relieved that the time today was given over to silent study.

He supposed, later, that what happened that day made sense. The accent, the troubled past, the jumpiness and avoidance of social interaction all marked him out as different - as a target. The dangerous side went unseen, lurking beneath the fractured self-confidence and shattered sense of security.

He was trying to commit a list of school subjects in Chinese to memory. The task was made more difficult by the rising volume of the group of boys whispering at the back, especially when his keen ears picked up on the topic of conversation - him.

"What do you think the deal is with the new kid?"

"Dunno. He's _weird_ alright, though."

"Yeah - hey, wait, you can't do that-"

Alex felt something collide with the back of his head and turned round sharply. He glared as he saw Mark, the boy who'd questioned him on his first day, grinning at him. The others had expressions varying from amusement to disapproval. The balled-up paper lay on the floor by a leg of his chair.

He turned back round, trying to suppress the small bubble of hysteria. He'd gone from the kid who'd made the bullies leave his school to the victim. He had at least hoped that when he came to America he wouldn't be the target of rumours, but it seemed even that was looking unlikely. Sighing, he resumed repeating "wu li - physics" under his breath, trying to ignore the mutters and chuckles behind him.

* * *

Mr Cooper peered over the top of his computer at the class. He had that sinking feeling of having just missed some kind of wrongdoing and scanned the class. Mark Lancer was getting quite a bit of attention from his friends, which at once made the teacher suspicious; he had taught the boy before and knew him to be a troublemaker, with a rather malicious streak. He continued to look round and frowned unhappily as his gaze settled on Alex. The boy was bent over his work studiously, two strands of fair hair falling over his eyes and obscuring the dark circles Mr Cooper had noticed earlier. He was ignoring the boys behind him but Mr Cooper wasn't sure if that was because he was absorbed in his work or for some other reason - namely, that they had been bullying him. The teacher sighed and returned to looking at the computer screen in front of him.

He had spent quite a long time running a Google search on Yassen Gregorovich. It had taken a while to work out the right spelling and sift through the results, and even so he hadn't found much. But it was enough to worry him.

All he could find was a small profile on the Interpol website, in the wanted persons section. It gave his name and nationality - Russian - and an estimated age of 35. There was no other information, not even a grainy picture, let alone details of his crimes, aside from a chilling statement of "multiple charges". The mystery was enough to give Mr Cooper a headache, and he was seriously worried about Alex. Why was a fifteen year-old boy talking to a wanted man? Gregorovich had not seemed threatening in the hospital room; indeed, he had seemed perfectly civil. He grimaced and decided to check over the presentation for his first class until the homeroom period ended, but found it hard to focus and didn't spot the spelling mistake he had made on the fourth slide.

The bell finally rang and there was a mad scramble as everyone rushed put their things away and leave. Mr Cooper raise his voice to be heard over the chaos.

"Alex, could I have a word please?"

The boy was almost at the door and for a moment the teacher thought he wouldn't stop, but then he gracefully made his way to the side to allow the other kids to file out and picked his way to the front of the classroom. Mr Cooper waited until they were alone before speaking.

"Alex. I wanted to see how you have been settling in. Have you had any problems?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure? None of the other kids have given you any trouble?"

There was a longer hesitation this time before he replied.

"No, sir."

Mr Cooper was unconvinced, but he let it slide.

"Alright. There was one other matter I wanted to talk to you about. That man you spoke with in the hospital…"

Alex stiffened and carefully avoided meeting his eyes.

"...Yassen Gregorovich. Well, I've discovered that he's wanted by Interpol. Now I don't know what his crimes are or how you know him, but _please_ Alex, tell me if you're in danger or if you need help with anything."

"He's not going to hurt me," Alex said with conviction. "Was that all? I'm going to be late for English."

Mr Cooper frowned, but reluctantly allowed him to leave, not feeling reassured in the slightest. Alex had once again diverted his questions and avoided answering the most pressing one, which he hadn't even had a chance to ask, not wanting to push the boy too far and risk losing any trust he might have.

 _What happened in Venice?_

* * *

Alex's mind was swarming with chaotic thoughts as he left the room. He was now mentally debating his teacher's intentions and the possible ways he could react - avoid giving proper answers, lie, or open up to the man? He dismissed the last option with a snort.

He mumbled an apology to his English teacher as he entered the classroom. Mr Talbot acknowledged him with a nod, barely pausing in giving instructions. Alex dropped thankfully into his seat by the wall and pulled out a dogeared copy of Catch-22, the first book they were studying that year. He hadn't been happy at first - seriously, how was he meant to fit reading a 500 page novel into his already busy life? - but soon he had to admit he was enjoying the lessons. Mr Talbot was an engaging teacher, and Yossarian's adventures were rather more amusing than his own.

Today, though, he couldn't focus. He kept subconsciously replaying the conversations with Mr Cooper, both from today and Saturday, trying to work out how he felt about the whole situation. What did his tutor want from him? Was he just trying to satisfy his own curiosity, or worse, to elicit information for an organisation? It was sad, but Alex had lost faith in adults. When he was being reasonable, he could understand that Mr Cooper was just trying to help, but it still came back to the same question - what's in it for him?

"Alex!"

He wrenched his mind back to the lesson, and to Mr Talbot. Everyone was staring at him. In some deep corner of his brain, he registered that his name had already been called three times.

"Yes, sir?"

"Alex, have you been paying attention _at all?_ What does the title of the novel refer to?"

He knew this, he was sure. He thought they had been discussing it at the start of the lesson. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to recall the answer, but his mind buzzed and he gave up.

"I don't know, sir."

"Catch-22 refers to a lose-lose situation, or a paradoxical problem with no solution. Please focus."

"Sorry."

He tried to concentrate, he really did, but his thoughts kept drawing him in.

A lose-lose situation. That pretty much summed up his life.

* * *

By lunchtime, Alex had managed to throw off most of his funk, helped by the opportunity in his drama lesson to clothe himself in the life of a completely different persona. He hadn't missed the looks Josh kept giving him, but from what he could tell Liam had been kept in the dark, allowing them to maintain a fairly normal group dynamic. Lunch was also perfectly ordinary; he sat with his friends, listened to Pearl rant about her sadistic music teacher and laughed at the crude jokes that were bandied about. Nothing bad happened in his Chinese or Government classes, and by the end of the day he was feeling a lot better.

The hairs on the back his his neck bristled as he stopped by his locker and he cast glance over his shoulder. The hallway was full of other students, sorting out their things and exchanging rapid conversations in an attempt to fit everything they wanted to say into the final minutes of the day, but his gaze found one in particular. He eyeballed Mark fiercely, trying to send a telepathic message to him to _back off._

Mark smirked and sauntered up to him.

"How's it going, Pleasure? Oh, wait - that's not your name, is it?"

"What are you on about, Mark?" he replied as calmly as he could.

"Just wondering - what _is_ your name?"

"Alex," he answered. "Alex Pleasure." He slammed the door shut and walked away. He looked back a couple of times, but the other boy made no move to follow.

* * *

The next morning, when he got to his locker, he found Mark waiting exactly where he had left him.

"Did you stay here all night?" he asked, scowling.

Mark ignored him. "I've been thinking," he began. Alex resisted the urge to say _don't injure yourself._ "About your name. I mean, it's not really fair to go around calling yourself Pleasure, is it? Imagine how Sabina must feel, being stuck with a guy like you. I've got a few suggestions if you want to change it. How about _freak_?"

"I'm starting to think you should get a new name yourself - how about imbecile?" Alex snapped back. Adding fuel to the fire probably wasn't wise, but it sure was satisfying. And Mark was getting off lightly; there were a lot of ruder alternatives he had been tempted by. "Just what is your problem?"

He didn't wait for an answer, stalking off his to his homeroom class and making a dramatic entrance by storming in and dropping his bag onto the desk with a heavy thump. Luckily only Katie, Pearl and Mr Cooper were there to witness it.

"What's the matter?" Katie asked in concern.

"I'll tell you at lunch," he muttered. He really didn't want to give his tutor any more reason to bombard him with questions at the slightest opportunity.

Thankfully, she didn't press the matter, returning to her conversation with Pearl about the latest episode of Supernatural. Alex brooded stonily as the room filled up. Josh joined them a few minutes later, but made no more effort than Alex to join in.

Alex observed him discretely. He, too, looked distracted, and seemed to be torn between anxiety, anger and excitement.

When lunchtime came round, there were no rants or jokes of the sort that usually filled their time. Katie was onto Alex almost before he had sat down.

"Ok, what happened this morning?"

Alex shrugged. "Mark decided to pick on me for no real reason. No big deal."

"You should tell someone," she frowned. The others nodded in agreement but he waved them off.

"I can handle it. He's just being a prat." He could sense that they were about to protest the issue and decided to change the subject. "Josh, what's happened to get _you_ so flustered?"

"How the hell did you know something happened?"

"I'm psychic. Now spill."

Josh bit his lip for a moment, then shrugged. "I might as well tell you. It's about my dad. You know how he left when I was still a baby?"

The others nodded. Alex hadn't been told, but he'd guessed that something along those lines had happened, so he went with it. "Yeah?"

"Well, he called Mom last night… he wants to come home."


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. An update in less than a month! Woo! This may be partly because I needed a distraction from results day. I don't even care about my grades right now, I'm just glad it's over. This chapter is dedicated to anyone who's had important exams this year.**

 **Disclaimer: I wasn't even _born_ when Stormbreaker was published, you seriously think I'm pretending to own Alex Rider?**

* * *

The following day was Wednesday, and with it came a welcome distraction from recent events - soccer tryouts. Alex was for once able to put the confusing thoughts out of his head and concentrate on something perfectly normal, feeling nervous because it was a while since he had done any serious practice. He had tried to convince his friends to kick a ball around with him, but none of them showed any interest, and when he got to the pitch after school he found that he didn't recognise most of the other hopefuls, beyond a shared class or two. The only one he had had a fair amount of contact with was Mark, and he wasn't exactly eager to talk to him.

They started out with twelve minutes of running and Alex let the pounding rhythm take over as he settled into the task, managing to maintain a position near the front of the pack with a concentrated effort. He had managed to keep up a good level of fitness over the holidays, and though his body ached and a few of his scars twinged with pain, he relished the physical challenges he was put through.

The drills were less satisfying; he fumbled a few times, and felt clumsier than he would have liked. But he had spent much of his childhood honing these skills, and that wasn't something he could forget overnight. He left feeling pretty confident that he had a place on the team.

The week passed by and Alex felt almost normal again. Mark directed a few cutting comments at him and Mr Cooper was particularly attentive towards him, but otherwise he found himself enjoying the school routine. It was even a little boring at times, though he tried to quell those thoughts - he didn't want to get sucked into anything _exciting._

The team list was published on Friday and Alex simultaneously felt proud and resigned to saying goodbye to a big chunk of his spare time. At least his friends offered him the consolation of a celebratory Starbucks after school.

The tutoring session on Saturday was, without a doubt, extremely awkward. Mr Cooper seemed reluctant to push him too far whilst also giving subtle hints that he shouldn't keep his problems to himself. Alex steadfastly refused to give proper answers to any questions not related to the work, and whenever he felt uncomfortable with where the discussion was going he would ask for some point to be clarified, even if he already had a pretty good grasp of the topic.

At the end of the lesson, Alex walked Mr Cooper to the door and Edward Pleasure came downstairs.

"Thanks for coming, sir," Alex said.

"No trouble at all." His eyes flicked to Mr Pleasure as though he wanted to say something, but in the end he settled on a smile and nod before leaving.

"How was it?" Ed asked when the door had closed.

"Fine. I don't think I'll be confusing mitosis and meiosis any time soon."

Ed grinned. "Shall we go on an outing when the girls get back? Get away from our bookwork for a bit?"

"That would be great," Alex agreed.

They settled in the kitchen to have a cup of tea while they waited. Halfway through, Sabina and Liz arrived back from their surfing club and immediately demanded to have tea, too. Alex got up to pour it and stirred in the preferred amounts of milk and sugar without needing to ask.

When the girls were recovered enough from spending the morning in the water (a process that took two drinks each and several cookies), they piled into the car and drove to the base of Mount Tamalpais and began the ascent. Despite taking their time, they were soon out of breath, talking a little but mostly content to soak in the Californian sunshine and focus on where they placed their feet.

Halfway up, Ed began to lag behind. His limp was more prominent and although he tried to keep going for as long as possible, he eventually had to admit defeat and sank onto a boulder by the path.

"I'll wait here for you."

Alex fought down a rush of guilt and reminded himself without conviction that Ed's injury wasn't his fault.

"You kids go on without us," Liz said. "I'm too tired."

Alex and Sabina hesitated, then resumed the climb. This far up the mountain, the noise of the city had faded away and the only sound came from their breath, the crunch of stones underfoot, the birdsong and the occasional plane flying overhead. It was quite meditative, and each time Alex looked out the view was more breathtaking than before.

"Race you!" Sabina called when they were nearly at the top. Despite having a second's head start, Alex beat her easily. She mock-pouted and blamed it on having gone surfing. Then they stood, triumphant, on the summit, the city and the sea and the forest stretched out below. Sabina closed her eyes and stretched out her arms, her hair in a tangled dance with the wind, and Alex laughed at the sight of her.

"Try it!" she said."It's like flying."

"Feeling a bit ridiculous, Alex copied her. Their fingertips brushed lightly until Alex allowed the wind to lift his arms a little more. He threw his head back and revelled in the breeze.

For the first time since the death of his uncle, he felt free.

* * *

The whistle was blown, the shrill sound piercing the air as they finally started a practice match. Alex was already exhausted after countless drills on passing and dribbling.

He was playing in his old position as a striker, in an offensive forward role. It was immensely satisfying, when he had grown used to the other boys also attacking, to be able to pass the ball smoothly and between them to score several times. If the fact that Mark was defending for the opposite team contributed to his happiness… well, he tried not to gloat too obviously.

As the game progressed, Alex felt a thrill of excitement as it became more tense and violent. His adrenaline levels spiked and he too became more aggressive in response to the heightened desperation of the other team, caring less for his own safety as he dribbled the ball fast towards the goal, Mark running head-on towards him-

Pain lanced through his temples as they collided, Mark's elbow smashing into his forehead. He reeled back but the momentum of the other boy carried him forwards, tripping over Alex so that the metal studs of his football boots scraped across the fleshy inside of his leg, which wasn't protected by his shin-guards and was easily torn, becoming a sickening, bloody mess. Alex kicked the ball away from him desperately but promptly collapsed due to a combination of putting all his weight on his injured leg and seeing stars thanks to the blow to his head.

Before he blacked out, he was aware of the coach shouting, a couple of distant cheers, and a vindictive smirk on Mark's face suggesting that the situation wasn't as accidental as it may have appeared to be. Then darkness descended upon him and he knew no more.

* * *

When he came to - he was only out for a few minutes - the predominant feeling, besides the pain, was of being wet; the damp grass was cold against his back whilst the blood running down his leg was hot, and every part of him was soaked in sweat. The team captain, a stocky boy named Richard Lance whom Alex barely knew, was crouching beside him. A little way off, the coach was still yelling at Mark.

"Stay still," Lance commanded. "Mr Cooper's coming to take you to the hospital. You've probably got a concussion and you might need a couple of stitches. One of the other boys went to fetch him. Congratulations, by the way."

"Mmph?" Alex grunted unintelligibly. Thankfully, Lance understood.

"You scored. When you went down, you kicked the ball away, and it went in the goal. Unbelievable."

Well, that explained the cheering. And it was bloody typical of him to sustain injury whilst attaining something in the most spectacular way possible.

Mr Cooper drove his car over and Richard Lance helped Alex into the backseat. The coach stopped yelling at Mark and dismissed the boys before getting in beside him. Soon they were speeding off away from the school.

Alex spent the trip in a daze and his memory of it would only include brief flashes, like the large sign and sculptures outside the hospital. He was given a wad of bandages and was told to press them against the cut on his leg, and as a result he spent the journey hunched over. Mr Cooper got them as close to the door as possible to reduce the distance he would have to walk.

Supported on both sides by his teachers, he limped into the bright foyer. The coach left him to talk to the receptionist, shortly returning with instructions to go through to the waiting room.

It took around fifteen minutes of waiting before Dr Brown came to find them. Alex was torn between pleasure at seeing the engaging young doctor again and apprehension considering the dramatic exit he had made last time he was here. It was a relief when the doctor launched into the reason for his visit without staring at him curiously. His attitude was humorous but straight to the point.

"Alex! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon. Leg injury and concussion, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?" He opened out a folded wheelchair which he had carried down with him and set it down. "Hop onto that for me."

Alex obliged, feeling a little embarrassed and distracting himself by wondering just how literally the doctor had meant the instruction to hop. He was pushed through the sterile corridors to a lift, taken up a floor and eventually ending up in a tiny room with a bed, small table, chair and not much else. They helped him onto the bed and left the chair folded by the wall.

"We'll start by taking a look at your leg. The cuts aren't too deep, but they're long and they need to be thoroughly cleaned or you risk infection…"

Alex sat through the stinging process for the next half an hour. He couldn't have painkillers because it could worsen the concussion, and was immensely grateful for his high pain threshold.

Dr Brown said that the best thing for a concussion was absolute rest. "We'll keep you here overnight for monitoring, then you can spend tomorrow at home. I'll talk to your coach about when you can get back to playing."

Shortly afterwards, Liz and Sabina turned up to see him. He felt a flicker of warmth as they each gave him gentle hugs, knowing that they cared about him. Liz had brought him a clean t-shirt to sleep in and he was faced with the awkward situation of not having curtains around his bed to afford him a little more privacy.

"Could you maybe turn around, please?"

Sabina smirked at him but obliged, as did the other two people in the room, and Alex tried to change as quickly as he could, but was slowed by the worsening of his headache. Just as he was about to pull the pyjama shirt over his head, Dr Brown chose that moment to enter. Alex immediately lowered his arms to cover his chest as he fumbled for the sleeves, keeping a wary gaze on the man.

Dr Brown cracked a grin. "Don't worry, nothing I haven't seen before."

 _You'd be surprised,_ Alex thought, tugging the shirt down as smoothly as possible. Judging by the sudden frown, he hadn't been quite quick enough.

"What's that on your chest?"

The doctor's sharp tone caused the others to look to. At the onslaught of eyes, Alex hugged himself protectively.

"Nothing," he lied. "It's just a birthmark."

Dr Brown held his gaze. Alex looked away first.

"I want to know if something's endangering your health, Alex."

"It's never bothered me before. It's just a birthmark, why should it?" he protested. The doctor just sighed.

"Get as much sleep as you can. Ring the bell if you get hungry."

Alex was left alone. He lay down and managed to drift off into oblivion for a few blissful hours, before he awoke, not particularly refreshed and with an emptiness in his stomach that demanded attention. He rolled over and pressed the bell.

A young female nurse answered the call and assured him that she would bring him some food right away. He glanced round the room for a book or magazine, but there was nothing and he had to resign himself to waiting.

It seemed like ages - he had no way of measuring time, but he would have estimated it took at least twenty minutes, probably more - before the door opened once more. To his surprise, it wasn't the same nurse as before; this time, it was the one he had seen on his visit, who had broken the news of Yassen's revival. Shrugging mentally, he dismissed the issue.

The man kicked the door closed with his heel as he brought the tray in.

"Here you go, Alex," he said.

"Thanks," Alex said, though he noticed that the meal (something ready-made and microwaveable) was nowhere near up to the same standards as the catering at St Dominics.

"Drink the water first."

He took the proffered cup obediently. It tasted a little odd, but he downed it anyway.

"That's right, Mr Rider."

It took a moment for the alarm bells to start ringing in his head, which was still aching from the concussion. Indeed, it seemed to be getting harder to focus, his thoughts becoming hazy. Finally, it clicked.

"How do you know my name?"

The man just smiled. Alex scrambled out of bed, sending the tray crashing to the floor. He stumbled as he put his weight on his injured leg and had to grab the headboard to stay upright.

"Who exactly are you?" he asked. He swayed on his feet as he let go of his support and had to fight back a wave of dizziness. "You drugged the water!"

"Very perceptive, Mr Rider. Now relax. I don't want to harm you."

Alex opened his mouth to protest the absurdity of that statement with a sarcastic comment, but he never made it that far. He felt himself fading out of consciousness and was only just aware of a pair of surprisingly muscular arms catching him before he could hit the ground.

* * *

 **So sorry! My cliffhangers are getting bigger and I still haven't resolved the last one. You have every right to be mad at me. Review anyway?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. Hello again! Just a huge thank you to everyone supporting this story, especially those who put in a bit of extra effort to review. It always makes me smile when I see the email. And I'm done with disclaimers on this story. You've all got the message by now, yes?**

* * *

He awoke in a room that was entirely grey. It wasn't cold or dull, like a stone prison cell or Alan Blunt's office. Instead it was like a small living room, with ombré wallpaper and a sofa strewn with cushions behind a grey marble coffee table. Monochrome prints of famous paintings were hung in frames on the wall. As his awareness grew with his return to consciousness he realised that he was wearing different clothes - pale grey jeans and a smart shirt in a darker shade. They had even provided him with new converse sneakers that fit perfectly. He was beginning to get a little freaked out at the situation.

Another thing that surprised him was the lack of restraints. He wasn't cuffed in any way and though there was no window, the door was of painted wood; it was locked, but he thought he could bring it down with a few well-placed kicks. He wasn't sure if all this was because whoever had kidnapped him was overconfident, an amateur, or if they had some motive for it which he didn't know about yet. He did a quick search but he couldn't even find any surveillance devices.

Just as he was preparing to test his theory on the door, there was a telltale click of the lock and he took a few paces back to put some space between himself and whoever was now coming through the door.

The woman that entered was not the sort of person he would have expected to be behind a kidnapping. She reminded him somewhat of Julia Rothman, but fake, like an actress in a badly put-together costume. Her suit was cheap but her teeth had been whitened professionally to the point of looking unnatural. She had even dyed her hair grey despite looking to be only in her early thirties.

"Good evening, Mr Rider," she said.

"Who are you? Where am I and why did you bring me here?" he demanded, ignoring her greeting.

"My, you are impatient, aren't you? That's a lot of questions. Rest assured that I shall answer all of them. Now, let's take a seat and get to know each other, shall we?"

Alex blinked. Most of the villains he encountered weren't so accommodating. It did seem that Rothman would be the best comparison, with her sugar-coated promises hiding the venom underneath.

Feeling a little thrown by her strange attitude, he obeyed. The only seat available was the sofa, which they would have to share. He sat as far as possible from her but even so, considering that they had to angle themselves to face each other, his knee almost brushed hers. This close, he could smell the faint trace of tobacco smoke that clung to her.

"Lovely," she commented. Alex wasn't sure he agreed. "Now, time for introductions. I know who _you_ are, of course, but I don't suppose you've heard of me. I am known as Mrs Smoke and I run a company called Project Utopia. I have brought you here because I think your expertise could greatly improve the quality of the services we provide."

"I'm not interested in working for anyone. I just want to go to school."

"No no, you misunderstand me. I don't you to work _for_ me. I want you to work _with_ me, as my equal. I am offering you a job as my co-executive. Many people would kill for the opportunity."

Alex raised an eyebrow, stone-faced. Smoke coughed quietly and continued.

"I suppose you think Project Utopia is a criminal organisation, like Scorpia, perhaps. But nothing could be further from the truth. Our aim is instead to fight crime and eliminate evil. No more drugs or prostitution or corruption. We will be able to succeed where all the security agencies in the world have failed because we are not limited by protecting our country's best interest and preventing petty international squabbles."

Worrying that for all her good intentions, Scorpia and Project Utopia might share more similarities than she claimed, Alex interrupted what was starting to become a grand monologue.

"And how exactly do you plan to do that? Because Damian Cray was also going to get rid of drugs, and that little _project_ involved him firing nuclear missiles at innocent people!"

"Disarmament is another of our aims. We believe in using as little violence as possible, just making carefully coordinated strikes at the root causes based on intelligence we gather - and that is where you come in, having extensive experience of collecting information and fighting psychopaths and criminal organisations."

"And what's in it for you? You're not funded by the government. No one will pay you for saving the world."

"Think of us as a charity, Alex. A rather extreme one, but really, the only thing we could possibly get out of this is fame. You and I will be celebrated by everyone around the globe! The teenager and the woman in grey - how does that sound?"

Her eyes lit up and Alex could tell that she was passionate about being famous, but really, it sounded to him like she was hiding something.

"It sounds like I need to think about this when I don't have a pounding headache from my concussion."

"Of course, we'll give you plenty of time to think it over," she said. If she was disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm, she didn't let it show. "I know you just want to go to school, Alex, but if you agree to this we may be able to solve the world's problems once and for all! Then no child will ever have to go through the same atrocities as you ever again."

Surprised that she wasn't going to pressure him any more, it took him a while to find something to say.

"So what now?" he asked vaguely.

"We will return you to the hospital. Your absence has been noticed, but there was nothing we could do about that."

Alex uncharitably thought that they probably _could_ have done something, if only they had actually made an effort.

"And how do I contact you?"

"We will be in touch," Mrs Smoke said. "Now I don't wish to drug you again, for fear of damaging your health, but I am obliged to blindfold you - just a precaution, you understand. Will you cooperate?"

He reluctantly agreed, knowing that if he didn't they would knock him out anyway, and she withdrew a scarf from her pocket (grey, of course; he was getting sick of the colour) and tied it over his eyes. She was meticulously thorough, leaving him in complete darkness.

He was handed over to a couple of guards who led him through a maze of corridors. A drop in temperature and a light breeze showed him when they exited the building and he was lifted into the back of a van before he could protest. One of the guards got in with him whilst the other took the driver's seat. His headache grew as every rut in the road jolted him, having no seat belt to keep him from being shaken around.

Time was impossible to measure. The drive might have taken twenty minutes or an hour, for all he knew. All at once he was brought out of his trance when the van stopped and he was helped down.

"You can remove the blindfold now," one of the guards said. Then he heard doors slam and the screech of tires as they sped away whilst he was still there trying to pull the scarf away from his face.

Night had set in, and he realised, shivering, that it was much colder now. The foyer was still brightly lit and he limped towards it. He gratefully let the warmer air envelop him - and froze.

Perhaps it wasn't so bad outside after all.

"Alex!"

He heard at least three distinct voices shout or gasp his name. He remained unresponsive as Liz pulled him into a hug, finally finding the will to pat her awkwardly on the back, as a sort of _I'm okay, now let go of me_ gesture. Looking over her shoulder, he saw Mr Cooper and Dr Brown, who had both risen to the feet. Their expressions held a mixture of anger, tiredness and relief.

"Where did you run off to, Alex?" Mr Cooper asked, approaching him.

"I didn't _run off_ anywhere," he said stiffly, looking down pointedly at his injured leg.

Liz drew back, noticing his appearance for the first time.

"Where did you get those clothes from?"

"I - it's complicated," he hedged, raking a hand through his hair.

She lowered her voice to a whisper, which he was sure his teacher could still hear.

"It's not happening again, is it?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. I promise to tell you back at home. Can I please go to bed? I'm not hurt or anything."

"Alex, we've been worried sick for over two hours. The least you can do is give us a proper explanation," Mr Cooper said firmly.

"And I will. To Liz. But my head hurts."

"You just said you were fine," Liz accused him.

He forced himself not to give her a withering glare.

"I still have a concussion."

"I suppose explanations must wait until the morning," Dr Brown said. "For now, Alex will come back to his room with me and I will give him a quick check up to make sure he hasn't worsened his condition."

Alex was relieved to let the doors swing shut between him and the two concerned adults. He stayed silent during the check up, complying with what the doctor asked him to do with a willingness born out of weariness. When his head finally hit the pillow, he was asleep in seconds. Maybe it was a lasting effect of the drug, because he certainly had a lot to worry about, but then, he had had plenty of practice suppressing thoughts in a corner of his mind, and spent eight hours in blissful oblivion.

* * *

"You made quite a stir last night with your disappearing act."

Alex didn't turn round. He had known the man was there from the second he had walked in, flanked by two armed guards.

They were in the hospital gym. Alex was being tested one last time before he was discharged. Yassen, it seemed, was trying to rebuild the strength he had lost in his long coma.

"Not much I could do about that," the teenager answered bluntly. "Now are you just trying to satisfy your curiosity, or is there a reason for you being here?"

"A bit of curiosity. A bit of concern."

Alex snorted. "Yassen, maybe you saved my life, but that doesn't mean we suddenly become incredibly close and I pour out my heart and soul to you. You're still the man who killed my uncle."

Yassen's only reaction to that was to shift slightly.

"Though actually, I don't suppose you know anything about Project Utopia?"

"No. I would ask you to keep your nose out of it, but as you say, my word doesn't count for anything."

"I don't _hate_ you anymore. I just don't… trust you."

Yassen looked at him with a perfectly raised eyebrow, which he deliberately ignored. He was very aware that Yassen's guards were watching them warily from the shadows, where they stayed to avoid disturbing the other patients, and that Dr Brown would be there in no time at all.

"I just thought you didn't want to be caught up in all that any more," the Russian said eventually, just as the silence was beginning to stretch too long.

Alex sighed. "It's never been a question of what I want, though, has it?"

"If you don't want it, find a way to escape it."

"Yeah, whatever."

Yassen frowned. Alex cut him off before he could speak.

"I've gotta go. Watch out for your nurses, Gregorovich, you never know when they might try to drug and kidnap you."

"Alex-" Yassen started to say, but the boy was already halfway across the gym, limping towards his doctor.

"Idiot child," he whispered after him.

* * *

 **Hopefully I'm starting to answer a few of your questions. You know what to do now! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

Alex was discharged around noon that day. The drive home was silent, Ed soon giving up on trying to get Alex to talk.

"I'm only telling you once," was all he said, before staring out of the window vacantly and ignoring his adoptive father's advances.

Liz was waiting for them in the kitchen when they got back, having taken the day off work, and there was an unspoken consensus that it was time for Alex to start explaining. His only consolation was that Sabina was still at school.

They sat down at the table with mugs of stereotypically British Earl Grey tea. Alex curled his hands around his to warm them and watched the steam spiral upwards for a while, trying to work out the best way of putting what had happened. The Pleasures waited in silence, not pressing him to talk until he began of his own accord.

In the end, he decided to just tell them, without beating around the bush.

"To put it briefly," he said eventually, "I was kidnapped by some people who knew who I am, but they wanted to employ me to help eliminate crime rather than torture and kill me. I have no idea where I was taken, but they'll be in contact soon so I can give them my answer."

He looked up just in time to notice that Liz was just about to drop her mug, and caught it with lightning fast reflexes. He probably should've come up with a more tactful explanation, then.

The hot tea sloshed over the sides of the mug and scalded his hands. He swore mildly, shaking the liquid off his hands and wiping them off on a towel. Liz came to her senses and ordered him to run the cold tap over them.

The cool water took away the sting and the gentle sound lulled him to a more peaceful state. The same could not be said for his adoptive parents, who looked more flustered the longer they thought about it.

Ed groaned and rubbed his face hard.

"Taking you in was never going to be easy, was it?"

Alex looked down at his feet and tried not to be hurt by the careless remark.

Sounding panicked, Liz said, "We've got to tell someone. We should call the police."

"Look, it's not a big deal," Alex pleaded. "They didn't hurt me or anything, they just wanted my help."

"That's what MI6 told you," Ed snapped. "Not to mention every other intelligence agency that approached you. And look where that got you!"

Alex sighed. "I know. But there's nothing we can do about it now. Let's just wait for them to approach me, shall we?"

Ed and Liz shared a glance, but neither of them objected. Alex turned off the tap, and, in the deafening silence that followed, left the room.

* * *

The next day, he insisted on going to school, though he slightly regretted it when the Pleasures, Mr Cooper, his friends, his football coach _and_ the team captain, Richard Lance, all asked him if he was sure he wouldn't be better off at home for a few more days. He told them that he was fine and he didn't want to get behind, but mostly he felt stifled in the Pleasures' house and wanted the distraction of his classwork. Though even that failed to hold his attention, as his thoughts constantly drifted to Project Utopia and Yassen.

At lunch, Alex realised that he had completely forgotten, in all the excitement yesterday, that Josh was expecting the return of an estranged family member.

"So when's your dad coming back, then?" he asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

Josh shrugged. "Sometime next week, I think. Maybe even this weekend." He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Mom hasn't really told me anything. I asked what he was like, but she just brushed me off… I'm not even sure she wants him here, to be honest. I think she just agreed to it for my sake, so I can get to know my dad."

Alex had had plenty of experience of dealing with his friends' family issues, but with Tom it had been simple - commiserate and agree with him that they were terrible parents, and offer a place to stay when the fighting got too bad. Now, he had to be encouraging but without letting Josh get too hopeful, just in case.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he offered, wincing internally at how inadequate the empty words were.

Luckily, Katie stepped in to help him out. "You might as well give him a chance. If he turns out to be rotten, you won't have lost anything."

 _Except a potential family member, and his childhood fantasies will probably be crushed,_ Alex thought pessimistically, urgently trying to find a way to distract Josh before he could come to the same conclusion.

"So what does he do for a living, anyway?" he asked.

"I dunno, really. He works for a big international company and travels a lot, but I don't know what it's called or what he does for them." Josh thought of something else and brightened. "If he's nice, I'll invite you round. Or even if he isn't. Mom said she'd be happy for you to come over again."

Alex, who was able to draw conclusions about the reasoning behind that, offered a polite smile and changed the subject.

* * *

By the end of the day, Alex was in no shape to participate in his drama class. His leg was nearly giving out from under him and his head felt like it had been trampled on by a thousand elephants. It took all his energy just to deliver the lines, though even those were laboured, as he squinted at his script and fought back the replica words threatening to drift up from the page into double vision. His lacklustre performance didn't go unnoticed, as Miss Miller stopped him to ask why he was so distracted since she knew he could do better.

"Sorry, ma'am," he answered. "I just don't feel great right now."

" _That's_ an understatement," Liam muttered.

"Do you want to go see the nurse?"

"No," Alex said, the walk to the office definitely not appealing to him. "Is it ok if I just sit out for a bit?"

"Of course. You should have said something earlier, Alex."

He couldn't quite bring himself to agree, being more annoyed that he hadn't managed to hide how he was feeling better, but almost changed his mind as he sank gratefully onto a chair at the side. Gradually, the pounding of his head abated, and his eyelids grew heavy and slipped shut.

"...lex. Alex, wake up."

Groggily, Alex blinked into wakefulness. Josh was crouched a couple of feet in front of him. Alex supposed that, after the last time he had woken Alex, he was reluctant to get too close in case the same disastrous consequences occurred.

"Yeah?" he mumbled.

"The lesson's over. Time to go home."

Holding back a groan, Alex got to his feet. He swayed alarmingly so that Josh anxiously put out a hand to steady him.

"You ok?"

"I've had worse," he answered.

Josh rolled his eyes. "Come on then. But I'm gonna ring Mom and ask her to give us a lift."

Alex couldn't bring himself to argue. "Alright. Sabina's staying late, anyway."

Somehow he managed to survive the trip to his locker and then to the parking lot. They sat on the curb together. Josh rambled on about a new film coming out while they waited. Thankfully he didn't need any input from Alex, who was too tired to talk, and soon Mrs Walker drew up in a red Ford Focus.

Her resemblance to Jack was no less painful the second time he saw her, but she fussed over him in a motherly way that was nothing like Jack's sisterly affection, clucking her tongue at his haggard appearance and checking that he was comfortable before starting up the car.

"How are you settling in, Alex?" she asked.

"Pretty well. Most of the students are nice," he answered politely.

"Do you miss England much?"

He half-shrugged. "Sometimes. I'm glad I moved, though."

"What about your friends? Do you still keep in touch?"

"I only really had Tom, and I haven't spoken to him for ages."

Not since he left for Cairo, actually. He felt a twinge of guilt at the memory of Tom getting shot, and wondered what the boy thought of him now, whether he had been told about what had happened.

"You should catch up with him soon, then. And I'm sure there are others who'd like to hear from you."

"Not really. The other kids at school didn't like me much. I was ill a lot." The lie fell from his lips without a thought, mixed with some truth.

"Well, don't let that stop you taking another day off now if you need one. And don't do anything strenuous tonight."

"I think I'll just go to bed," he replied, a yawn escaping him just as he said it as though it was proving the point.

They pulled up in front of the Pleasures' house

"We're here. Are your parents home, honey?"

"I don't think so. They're probably working."

"Do you mind if I come in with you then? Just so I know you're alright."

Alex couldn't think of an argument against it, so he agreed. If he was honest, he appreciated having someone to lean on when necessary, as it probably saved him from falling at least once. The sensation of being disoriented by his injuries was all too familiar, but he reminded himself that it came from a football injury, not some crazy adventure fit for a spy thriller. Josh said goodbye in the car, so only Mrs Walker followed him in.

Alex wasn't lying when he said he was planning on heading straight to bed. He was glad that he had kept his room tidy, unlike when he had been back in Chelsea. It helped that he had only brought a few items with him. His desk was strewn with paper and textbooks, but that was about it.

Mrs Walker, however, didn't see it that way. Normally she'd be impressed, but after the small insights she'd had into the boy's past, she mostly felt concerned. The room was unnaturally bare, as though he hadn't yet accepted that this was his home now. She paused by a couple of framed photos on the chest of drawers - apart from a Chelsea poster and a battered football, they were about the only personal touch she could see.

Alex noticed her interest. "Yeah, that's Jack," he said, gesturing to the laughing redhead in an old photo from his tenth birthday. "And the man is Ian, my uncle. The other one is of my parents."

"I didn't know you had an uncle."

"He died last year."

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. Were you close?"

"I grew up with him after my parents died."

"I thought Jack-"

"She was the housekeeper. She looked after me more than Ian, anyway, and stayed on after he died until-"

He broke off, swallowed, and turned away. To her credit, Mrs Walker realised he wasn't going to say anything else and didn't push the issue. She put his bag down, which she had insisted on carrying for him. Alex sat on the edge of his bed.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked him.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Alright. Get some rest, then. I'll see myself out." She brushed his hair back from his face with a gentle hand and left. Alex listened until he heard the door open and shut and then lay back. He fell asleep in minutes, still fully clothed, and didn't wake up until morning, his sleep being blissfully free from dreams.

He wasn't awake at three o'clock, when, under cover of darkness, in the hospital across the city, a window opened and a man climbed out. No one was there to witness the escape - the guards posted outside the door would later swear they never heard anything. It would cost them their jobs.

Not, of course, that Yassen Gregorovich would care. He had nothing - no money, no passport and only the clothes he was wearing. He knew that he would be hunted by the police and intelligence agencies by countries all over the world, but that was ok. He had skills, he had contacts and he knew how to disappear. In fact, the CIA had done him a favour: Scorpia thought he was dead. He would work for a bit to regain his fortune - perhaps some of his bank accounts were still secure - and then he could retire. A dacha back in Russia could be nice. Or maybe he would work in a normal job, or fly helicopters, or something.

A smile tugged at his lips. Yes, the opportunities were endless. Except… what should he do about Alex Rider? He didn't owe him anything, the debt to Hunter was paid long ago, but somehow he knew that he hadn't seen the last of the boy.

* * *

 **A.N. Hello, friends! I decided to save my ramblings for the end this time. Happy Halloween, Samhain, Bonfire Night or whatever you may be celebrating around this time. Feel free to tell me about it.**

 **A few apologies: firstly, I'm sorry about the ongoing mysteries that haven't been solved. I swear, I'm working my way towards Josh's dad, but I'm really not in control of this story. I just follow it along as it plays out and record what happens. Secondly, I can't promise any updates soon because I stupidly decided, today, that I wanted to do Nanowrimo properly, and will therefore be concentrating on other stuff.**

 **Talking of Nano - are any of you doing it? If so, my username is the exact same there, so please find me! It would be cool to do it with fellow fan-people. And I'd also like to advertise the December fic exchange - if you don't know about it yet, go check out the Spyfest Revival forum.**

 **Many thanks to all of you who have read this far, and who have supported this story in any way. Please remember to review on your way out if you would like to. I love you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N. I have no excuses for what a horribly long time this took. It's been very nearly done for weeks now, I've just been neglecting it in favour of homework or the Fic Exchange or that new idea that burst into my head at the end of November... However, I finally reached the end in a few snatched moments at a New Year's Eve party, so consider this my present to all of you to say Happy 2018. I really hope you enjoy the chapter :)**

* * *

Alex slept in until ten o'clock the next morning. When he woke, he didn't get up for a while, lying there until he fully surfaced from sleep. It was so late when he eventually dragged himself downstairs that he cooked a Full English Breakfast that would act as brunch - eggs, bacon, sausages, the lot.

His Saturday tutoring session had, according to Ed, been rescheduled for the afternoon. He was feeling groggy but the pain had subsided so he went along with it, though he realised at quarter to two that he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and only had fifteen minutes before Mr Cooper arrived to have a shower and get dressed.

The doorbell rang while he was in the middle of pulling on a hoodie. He frantically sifted through all the papers on his desk to find what he needed before rushing to the door, jumping down the stairs two at a time.

"Slow down!" Liz scolded him. "You'll reopen the cut in your leg! I'll get the door."

Settling down in the kitchen, Alex and Mr Cooper got to work on the lessons he had missed on Thursday. They were busy with a sheet of chemical equations to balance when the bell rang again. Alex listened carefully as Liz went to open the door. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but Liz sounded surprised and the man she was talking to had an American accent - not that that narrowed it down much.

"Sorry to interrupt, but this man wants to talk to Alex," Liz told them.

Alex glanced over and sighed as he saw who was behind her.

"Shulski," he said wearily, "what do you want?"

"Could we take this somewhere private?" Ed Shulski said, looking serious.

Mr Cooper made as though to leave, but Alex pulled him back down.

"You can say whatever you have to say in front of all of us."

"You don't trust me. I suppose that's fair enough." Shulski moved to the opposite side of the kitchen table and sat down. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a little tape recorder. "I'll be recording this conversation, if you don't mind."

"Is this an interrogation?"

"No, Alex, not unless you try to withhold information. It's just an interview."

Alex snorted, but said nothing. Shulski took that as consent and flicked the button to turn it on. Liz and Mr Cooper looked bewildered.

"Yassen Gregorovich escaped from the hospital in the early hours of this morning. Were you aware of this?"

"Nope," Alex said.

"You don't seem surprised."

He shrugged. "He's well trained. If he wants to leave, there's not much you can do about it."

"We have closed circuit television evidence of you talking to him the day before his escape."

"He didn't say anything about it."

"What _did_ he tell you?"

"Not much."

The agent waited.

"You're doing that thing where you remain silent so I elaborate. Fine. He gave me some advice - stay away from people like you."

"Is that it?"

"He also asked about the people who kidnapped me, but you needn't worry, they're not his type."

"Kidnapped you?"

"An extreme charity wanting my help. They brought me back unharmed at the end of the night, and before you ask, no, I don't know where they took me."

Ed Shulski decided to give up on him. "Alright, thank you for your time. That'll be all for now. If you have the slightest suspicion regarding Gregorovich, contact the agency immediately."

He flicked the button on the tape recorder, got up, nodded his thanks to Liz, and left.

There was silence as they listened to the door open and shut. Alex could tell that both the adults were bursting with questions, but he really didn't want to answer any of them, so he was the first to move, pulling the worksheet towards him.

"How do the brackets work again, sir?"

Mr Cooper struggled with himself for a moment before coming to a decision. He reached over and took the pen from Alex's hand.

"I've put up with a lot, Alex, but I think it's time I got some answers."

"There's not much I can tell you, sir."

"Then tell me what you can."

"It's in the past. There's no point bringing it up now."

"Is it? It's still affecting you - you're having nightmares about it, a criminal you're on first-name terms with has turned up in your life again, this man you seem to know has turned up to interview you and - what did you mean about being kidnapped? Why didn't you tell us that was what happened?"

"I told the Pleasures."

"Very reluctantly, with no detail. And you refused to take it to the police," Liz butted in. No help from her, then.

"They weren't a criminal organisation," Alex insisted. "There was no point."

"They abducted a teenager. That doesn't strike me as being very legal."

"For one evening. They probably knew it was the only way to get my attention."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why are you defending them? Why couldn't they just ask you? Whatever it is they do, why did they think you could help them?"

"They have a good cause."

Mr Cooper waited expectantly. Alex didn't elaborate.

"You haven't answered my other questions."

"It's… complicated."

"We've got time."

"I can't tell you, okay!" Alex practically shouted, shoving his chair back and starting to pace across the kitchen.

"Well, why not?" Mr Cooper asked, equally frustrated. "I just want to help you. Maybe you could at least try to explain."

As they froze in stalemate, Sabina entered the kitchen, crossing to a cupboard and getting down a glass. She poured herself some orange juice and turned around before she finally noticed the tension. Alex had stopped mid-pace and Mr Cooper was staring at him with an expression of exasperation on his face.

Taking a sip, she looked between them, unfazed. She had probably heard the shouting.

"Something the matter?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at them.

"No," Alex said, at the same time as Mr Cooper answered "Yes".

"Sorry, Alex, but I'm inclined to believe the adult in this case. You're not exactly known for your ability to depend on others."

He glared at her. She ignored him.

"Ok, what's going on?" Sabina demanded.

There was a tense pause as Mr Cooper sent a long, considering look at Alex.

"I just want to know what I'm dealing with here!" he finally burst out. "I'm trying to understand and help as much as I can but it's practically impossible when I have no idea what you've gone through. I don't like to pressure you into telling me something you don't want to, and I want you to trust me, but please, give me at least something to go on."

Sabina took this in and nodded.

"Right. Alex, sit down." She waited for him to follow her instructions, which he did with reluctance. Then she took the chair opposite, where Shulski had been sitting.

"I'm going to leave how much you say up to you, Alex, but Mr Cooper's been helping you for a couple of months now and I agree that he deserves to know at least a little. And I think you've been bottling it up for too long. So if you want to have control over what you say, start talking."

Alex hesitated. He opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again, turning back to her desperately.

"Sabina, I can't. You know that."

"No, Alex, I don't. Yes, you can't say everything, but you can say some of it and the effects it has had on you."

He bit his lip anxiously. He knew he should say something but he really didn't want to go over it. Sabina prompted him a bit more.

"You've managed to deal with a lot of it since your uncle died, and most of that doesn't seem to have done too much damage, so why don't you start with something more recent? Tell him about Jack."

"Sab, I haven't even told any of _you_ what happened to Jack, so what makes you think I want to pour my heart out to my _bloody_ teacher?"

She sighed. "I know you don't want to, Alex, but it's time you did." When he still didn't start, she took matters into her own hands. "Jack was his guardian. She started out as the housekeeper for his uncle when he was seven, and then when Ian died she stayed on to look after him."

"Alright! She died in June. End of story," Alex interrupted.

Sabina gave him a look that told him he wasn't getting out of it that easily.

"It was a car accident," he added.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mr Cooper said awkwardly. "Were you with her at the time?

"I wasn't in the car. That blew up."

"But you saw it, didn't you? You still have nightmares about it, Mrs Walker told me."

"At the sleepover? Ed never said anything to me, I thought they had stopped," Liz said sharply.

"I didn't mention it. It was just a one-off."

"But you told Mrs Walker?" She sighed. "You were sick, weren't you? Alex, you need to tell us when that happens!"

"What's the point?"

"The point, young man, is that we're meant to be looking after you, and we care about your health. So even if there's nothing we can do, at least keep us up to date, okay?"

Alex nodded, scuffing his toe on the floor. Then he remembered that he was meant to be answering Mr Cooper's question and decided to give him a proper answer.

"Yeah, I saw it," he said quietly. "I should have known they would- should have warned her-"

Liz came up behind him and gently rubbed his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault," she murmured.

Alex swallowed hard and pushed the memory of Julius laughing at him to the back of his mind.

"Next question?"

"How do you know Gregorovich?" Mr Cooper asked.

"Long story short, Dad saved his life once, and now he sometimes saves mine to pay off the debt."

"That's a nice way of putting it," Sabina said sarcastically. "Isn't this the same man that threatened to cut off my fingers?"

"His boss ordered him to do that," Alex corrected. He sighed. "Look, I know he's not a good man, but we… understand each other."

Sabina stared at him, speechless. "I don't believe you," she choked out eventually. "He's not your friend, Alex! He's one of the worst people I've ever met."

"Then you haven't met many bad people," he snapped.

"You can't justify what he's done."

"I'm not trying to. And I know he's not my friend - in case you've forgotten, I've lost a lot more at his hands than you. But I've got enough enemies as it is, so please believe me when I say that he isn't one of them."

Mr Cooper groaned. "I think I'm more confused now than I was before."

"Look - don't worry about him, okay? Yeah, he's alive, but he's not going to come after me. I may never see him again. And whilst I'm still a little annoyed at him, he's done enough to help me - Sabina, he did save our lives - so I've pretty much forgiven him." He searched for a way to sum up his problems concisely, conscious that he was dancing on dangerous ground here and needed to end the conversation before it became impossible to finish without going into the whole MI6 fiasco. "I'm dealing with Jack's death and some trust issues and there are some other unpleasant events which I really don't feel like talking about right now. Sometimes I get flashbacks. But that's about it, really."

"Alex-"

"No, Sabina, I am not going to elaborate any further right now," he interrupted before she could ask. "I really just… just want to forget about it, okay?"

She sighed, seeing that he couldn't be pushed to continue and drained the half-forgotten juice.

"I'm not going to apologise for doing that," she told him, but as she left she reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Thank you for telling me that," Mr Cooper said. He looked like he wanted to add something, but after a moment he handed back the pen, and they continued almost as though nothing had happened. Alex wasn't sure how to feel: if the atmosphere was more awkward or if the conversation - the interrogation - had stripped away some of the walls he'd built up and forced him to trust these people. Although he still wasn't, not really. Maybe he never would.

And Mr Cooper, whilst he was glad that Alex was making progress, was more worried than ever about the massive mysteries Alex had been skirting around. He didn't want to pry, but even without knowing exactly what had happened, he felt… angry.

Maybe it wasn't his business, but he wasn't about to give up just yet.


End file.
